


Do Not Let it Show

by umiwomitai



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Angst, Asexual Character, Asexual!Changkyun, Coming Out, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Will probably add more as I finish the story, a lot of it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-05-13 01:40:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14739677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/umiwomitai/pseuds/umiwomitai
Summary: It's just a series of event that lead Changkyun to think that there are things that are meant to be shown, exposed, and live only for this purpose, while other must absolutely remain hidden. Unknown.It's just the series of event that will lead him to know what must be hidden, and what can be revealed.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Uh oh. Hi. So. this requires some talk I guess.
> 
> First, I do not pretend in any way to be fully knowledgeable about asexuality. This is written mostly from pieces of my own experience, and talks I had with friends, so please make sure you're aware of this before reading.  
> Second, I started this when I was sad, stressed and sleep deprived. I can't promise quality and certainly not consistency. But it is what it is, I like it this way, so be it I guess.  
> Finally, I do not know where this is heading, but this has quite some angsty topics, so feel free to stop reading at any moment. I almost made myself cry while writing so I'd understand :)  
> This is also just my second piece of writing about MX, please excuse anything that could sound out of character.
> 
> Once again, English isn't my first language and this is proofread only by me so I apologize in advance for any mistake/sentence that might not sound idiomatic, as my dear grammar teacher says. Now, please enjoy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s the end of it all, Kyunie. Doesn’t it feel weird for you?”  
> “I’m actually relieved.” he whispers, not bothering to hide his feelings.

 

He feels his breath near him more than he hears it, sounds muffled by the music in his ears.

He feels the warmth that spreads through him, his arm holding onto the other’s arm, his head uncomfortably resting on his shoulder.

He still feels the bitter taste of beer on his tongue, and the more delicate memory of his lips on his, of his tongue on his, of their mouths kissing each other.

He wants to hear him laugh out loud and high again. He wants to see him want him, the spark in his eyes, the smirk on his face. He wants to be the one that can make him happy, even though he could also become the one that could crush him.

He opens his eyes slowly, and all he can see is the bad movie playing on the small tv screen, the flashes of light casting shadows along Kihyun’s face.

He looks focused, engrossed into the story going on in front of them. Hair is falling on his forehead, he probably didn’t bother styling it before leaving home this morning. He is biting his bottom lip, out of habit, not really meaning to. His hands are playing with the loose threads of his sleeves, probably out of habit too. Kihyun has a lot of nervous habits, that come up when he is so focused on something he doesn’t care about the eyes on him anymore. Changkyun knows it, he knows them all, could write and draw about every single one of them.

He also knows he must sound and look creepy, watching him like this, but it’s one of the only moment where no one really cares. No one cares about Kihyun, and surely enough, no one cares about him either. He can get lost into contemplation, and then pretend he fell asleep during the movie to avoid talking about it. He doesn’t mind when their friends say he is not funny. He doesn’t mind when they make fun of him for always missing out most of the movies.

Because these moments are his, and his only. When he’s all alone, he can remember how Kihyun’s face was, how he had wanted to kiss and hold him so bad, but simply didn’t, because he can’t.

Because Kihyun would call him weird, because their friends would call him gay, because he could call himself an idiot.

Because these moments are his, and his only. And maybe that’s the only pieces of Kihyun he’ll ever get, but at least, he has them.

And that, no one can take it away from him.

 

* * *

 

His pencil is slowly tapping a dull rhythm on his notebook, eyes unfocused. The music has stopped for a moment already, he hasn’t bothered to put another album on. The sketches are spread on his desk, all making up one same face.

He bites his lip, mimicking the expression he has drawn messily.

His headphones hand from his neck, too lazy to put them back on. His gaze shifts, stopping on his computer screen. The chat box is full of unread messages he doesn’t want to read. They’re always the same, useless empty words vainly filling up a space that never stops emptying itself. They mean nothing to him.

Games. Movies. Girls. Kissing. Sex. Girls again. Sports. Girls, again.

He already knows what they’re all about and can’t bring himself to care. With a lazy hand, he closes the chat window and shuts off the computer. It’s near dinner time, he can smell the food. Tonight, both his parents are here. For once, he wants to try and think only about them.

Just them. And himself, maybe a little.

Not Kihyun. Just for a night.

 

* * *

 

He fails. Of course he does.

His dad is happily talking about his new colleague from Australia. His mom is smiling at him, listening carefully like she always does. The food is good, still warm in his plate. His fork doesn’t move, he has stopped thinking. The words become noise that makes no sense. The kitchen walls become a blurry mess of colours. The air becomes suffocating as his lungs start to burn, his heart starts to pound. He can’t process the world around him.

His mom suddenly turns to him.

“You don’t like the food, sweetie?”

He forces out an answer, a series of words that he hopes are making sense. They do, since she smiles and turns to pour herself a glass of water. She pours him some too.

“You seem a little out of it lately, my boy.” his dad says, with that voice that always tries to be soft but ends up worried and raspy. “Everything is alright?”

He looks up at them. They have stopped eating, knife hovering over their plates, eyes watching his every move. He feels like crying, but doesn’t. He can hold it together. Has to. At least in front of them.

But his words don’t cooperate, don’t follow his brain, just follow his thoughts.

“Am I weird?”

“Weird? Of course not Changkyun! Who told you that?”

His mother seems shocked by the mere idea of her son being outcasted. He doesn’t want to hurt her. Seeing how her face is invaded by worry, he realises it is a little too late.

“No one. Yet. But it’s just… it’s obvious. All these things they always do, talk about, dream about… none of them interests me. I used to think that I was just too young, that I’d grow to like them like they all do.”

His words are struggling, his hands strangling his napkin under the table. His dad, like always, puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder. _You can do it._

“But I don’t. It’s my last year of high school, and they go out, they talk about movies, about summer holidays, about girls and… I don’t like any of this.”

“It doesn’t make you weird, my bunny. It just makes you different. Different isn’t bad.”

His mother gets up and comes to kneel in front of him. He moves his chair to face her, and feels even worse. Her hair is tied like it always is, her clothes smell like perfume and coffee like always, her hands are soft and she wears her wedding ring like always ; it doesn’t bring the comfort he seeks.

“Is that really all? I know these kids are your friends, but if they’re hurting you bunny, it’s wrong and you have to tell us.”

“No. No. It’s not- They’re not like this. It’s just… I never clicked with them, but it was okay, and now it’s not anymore because there’s… there’s Kihyun and, he’s always way too nice to me even when I’m annoying him, he’s always smiling too much, he’s always helping me with classes. And… He’s like them. He likes these things too. Movies. Stupid games. Stupid girls. But… I knew he is like this and I still…”

Words stop flowing out his mouth when tears start flowing out his eyes. Everything is a blur, everything is a mess, and out of all this, he can only make out his parents’ embrace and Kihyun’s face in his head. Kihyun’s stupid face and Kihyun’s stupid words and Kihyun’s stupid kiss and Kihyun’s stupid ex-girlfriend.

When he finally stops sobbing, his mom is still looking at him with her warm and comforting gaze, brown eyes softer than before. The comfort is there this time.

“You really like this kid, don’t you?”

“Yes. But it’s not just… that.”

“What is it, Changkyun? You can tell us everything.”

“Is it…”

He stops mid-sentence, because his words suddenly sound ridiculous to him. He is back to his 6 year old self, asking why people kiss all the time. He is back to 8 year and a half old self, asking why people fall in love. He is back to his almost 13 year old self, asking if men can love each other too. (The answer is yes)

He feels naked, idiot, weak. A prey surrounded by people he doesn’t know whether he can trust. But there are his mother’s eyes full of love and comfort, and his father’s hand full of warmth and strength. And when he gulps, he feels able to speak up.

“Is it normal not to want to have sex?”

His eyes close themselves. His napkin is now a tight bundle in his hands, keeping them from shaking. Tears are threatening to fall again. A hiccup makes him open his mouth in a small noise.

“Oh sweetheart. Is that what has been on your mind?”

He shrugs, he snorts, he wipes his nose with the back of his hand. He feels ridiculous now that he has revealed his thoughts.

“Well,” his father starts, “we’re not the best person to ask to. But maybe we can look it up together. You’d like that?”

His eyes stop on his father’s face and he thinks that yes, he’d like that.

That night, the answer is yes, once again. It is normal, he is normal. Just like any other boy from his high school or any other high school. There are people like him, he is not alone, he is not weird.

He is different. He knows that perfectly. He is different, and he is loved. He is accepted. He feels whole, he feels like he has the right to be himself again, and it sounds ridiculous but it tastes so nice. This freedom. This acceptance. This sensation to have somewhere to be safe, to be loved, to be trusted. To belong.

And for a night, just for night, it just doesn’t matter what the others think. It doesn’t matter that Kihyun might never love him. It doesn’t matter that he might reject him if he learns the truth. And maybe it only lasts for a night, waking up the next morning with the same fear inside of him, but at least for a night, he got to know what it’s like.

And maybe he gets addicted to it. But that too, no one can take it away from him.

 

* * *

 

He can hear the bell ring through his earphones, still doesn’t move. His hands are restless, writing down everything he can remember. Hundreds of words noted down on paper, in a haste, eager to mark as many words as he can.

His notes are messy, and next to them are his drawings, so different, the stark contrast could make any passerby believe they had been drawn by someone else. It doesn’t matter, as long as it makes sense to him. He isn’t the best student, but that has never been his goal. He needs to be good enough.

Changkyun breathes in deeply and extends his left hand towards his phone, absent-mindedly changing the song for another one that helps him focus a little more. He has lost track of time, so when a hand lands on his shoulder, he is so sure it is the librarian that he raises his head with a nice smile.

It disappears immediately. Ryeowoo is looking at him with a smile, and behind him, in all his fake glory, Kihyun. Changkyun barely holds back a remark, their presence in this room at this hour is more than unexpected.

“Kyun. We thought we’d find you there.”

“I can’t say the same about you.” Changkyun grinned at them.

“Funny. Whatever.” Ryeowoo brushed his words away as he took a seat in front of him. “I need you for something.”

“For _something_? If it is like last time, then it’s a ‘no’ for me, thank you very much.”

Changkyun barely spares a look for Kihyun and starts picking up his books and pens, making sure neither of them can look at his drawings. They are secret and are meant to remain secret. Ryeowoo snickers and puts a hand on his forearm, keeping him from closing his bag.

“No, don’t worry. I’m sorry about that by the way. It was dumb.”

“It’s kind of an understatement. Spill it out.”

In front of him, Changkyun witnesses as Kihyun smiles at him, an amused look in his eyes. He feels proud that he managed to make him smile like this. Proud, and in love. A little more than before, like each time, falling for a smile, a look, a strand of hair, a delicate touch, a piercing laughter.

“I need an advice. You draw, right?”

Instinctively, Changkyun holds his sketchbook closer to him, keeping it close. His drawings had been mocked and laughed at way too many times already. He had decided it wasn’t worth the risk anymore. His hands enclosed on his books against his chests, his gaze sets on the boy in front of him.

“I do.”

“My girlfriend draws too. I wanted to buy her something for her birthday, but I don’t understand a thing about the list she made me, so… Could you come buy something with me?”

Changkyun felt weird hearing these words. Being asked dumb favors or money, he was used to it. This, was totally different. This made him feel trustworthy, important, like maybe his passion wasn’t a waste. Even for something as trivial as a gift for a girl he didn’t even know.

“Sure. When?”

He doesn’t care when. What matters is _who with._ But then again, not really, because the only answer that’s satisfying is _with Kihyun_. He’d go shopping everyday if it meant going with Kihyun. Sadly, Kihyun rarely goes out himself, often too busy to care about their pointless outings, so Changkyun doesn’t go either.

When Ryeowoo says he meant to go now with Kihyun, Changkyun doesn’t find an excuse about “not being allowed to go out after school”. Because the truth is he can, and this time, he wants to.

This is just a little something. A little nothing for Ryeowoo, probably nothing more for Kihyun, but inside Changkyun’s heart, it’s more time with him, more time that can’t be taken away from him, and that’s all he wants to remember.

 

* * *

 

He feels the music pulse in his head more than he hears it. He has long dissociated from his surroundings, nothing bothering him anymore now that his eyes are closed. He doesn’t remember why he accepted to come to this party, when he knows perfectly that once again, it will be worthless.

But it’s the last one. The last thing to do, before it is socially acceptable to never contact his high school friends ever again and use an old, worn-out “ _I was busy_ ” as an excuse. The last time he ever lets himself hope that something will let him have the chance to feel Kihyun’s lips against his once again before finally storing this hope away for good.

He doesn’t drink. Doesn’t like it, doesn’t want to get drunk. He can see how most of them end up at every party, and the choice had been easy for him. But he can pretend. This way, it’s easier to find excuses for his weird behavior, or his too honest words. This way, he can get too close to Kihyun and blame it on the alcohol. This way, he can play their dumb drinking games, never losing, but still getting the most amazing prices.

So what he once had to dance in front of everyone. So what he had to kiss more girls than he ever wanted to. Because this one single memory of Kihyun’s lips was worth more than this all. One more that will remain his forever.

If someone were to ask him, he wouldn’t be ashamed to admit that he has drawn this moment way too many times than he should have. Yet, no one ever has, and the secret is still his to keep, dearly, warmly, inside his heart near the secret of his love.

He doesn’t really hear it, but when Kihyun stops in front of him and pulls on his hand to get him off the couch, he gets up with a dumb smile and hooded eyes. His hand feels heavy and sweaty in his ; he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t know where he’s taking him to ; he doesn’t mind. He can’t bring himself to mind when it’s him. He is so far gone already it doesn’t even sound ridiculous anymore to him.

He brings him in the garden, to sit next to him in the grass near the flowerbeds full of tulips. Here, they can’t hear really hear the music anymore, nor the loud chatter of drunk students celebrating. Here, it’s just the two of them and maybe suddenly Changkyun feels lightheaded. His eyes fixed on the ground, he noticed Kihyun hasn’t let go of his hand yet.

“It’s the end of it all, Kyunie. Doesn’t it feel weird for you?”

“I’m actually relieved.” he whispers, not bothering to hide his feelings.

“You really don’t like high school, right? You’re always so distant, it feels like you’re always somewhere else in your thoughts. I wish…” Kihyun breathes in deeply before letting out a loud laugh. When he stopped, he let his head rest on Changkyun’s shoulder, exhaling deeply after laughing so much. “I thought of something funny.”

They stay exactly for a long time. Changkyun doesn’t move, doesn’t want to. He isn’t sure whether Kihyun is really that drunk, whether it’s really happening. But he is sure that he wants to remember every second of whatever this is, so he stays here, in the exact same position, waiting for his friend to finally keep talking.

“I’ll miss you, Changkyun,” he finally admits, voice just a breath. “You’re already so far away and it seems like I’ll lose you for sure after all this.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Kihyun makes him turn his head when he suddenly straightens his back, looking at him with clouded eyes and a heartbreaking smile.

“You weren’t even here to start with.”

And it hurts. It hurts deep inside his chest in a way nothing ever has, because it’s the truth. The ugly truth he thought only him knew, he thought he had kept hidden from everyone. But it’s here, right here, lying on the grass between them, sipping through his lungs, leaving a stain on his jeans and his heart. Because Kihyun knows, when he shouldn’t have even thought about it. Because Kihyun knows, when no one was supposed to. Because Kihyun knows, and out of everyone else, it had to be him, sitting here and breaking his heart.

Now, all there is left are broken words and unspoken feelings. Things that Changkyun will never say, to protect himself from the world, and it hurt excruciatingly so that Kihyun is part of this world. That he has to keep Kihyun out of all this.

So when he gets up and wipes away his tears, when he leaves after grabbing his coat from the couch, when he sobs on his way to the bus stop, when he breaks down on the kitchen floor and wakes up his mother because of his cries, when he falls asleep tired and empty, Kihyun doesn’t know. Kihyun can’t know.

And this night, the sweet lie of “ _this is for the best_ ” tastes bitter on his tongue.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading all through the end! I don't know when the next chapter will come so please bear with me. I'm on  
> [Tumblr](https://umiwomitai.tumblr.com) if you want to yell at me for this disaster.  
> Until next time, take care of you!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Sweetie, is this Kihyun the same Kihyun from high school?”   
> “Yes”, he admits with difficulty. Speaking about it makes it way too real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi.
> 
> Let me apologise sincerely for not posting for a month! Even though I'm free it's really had for me lately to be satisfied with what I write so I'd rather take ages to finish something than to post something I don't like. I'm still sorry it took me so much time, I'll try to be more consistent now! Thanks to everyone who read/commented the first chapter, I hope this won't disappoint! This is a little shorter but also a little happier!
> 
> Just a heads up, this chapter is placed 8 years after the first one. And little reminder, English isn't my first language so please bear with the sloppy sentences.

He hears the rain falling softly against the windows, background noise keeping him at ease. He’s been here for so long he doesn’t even remember when he actually arrived. His desk is full of papers that shouldn’t be there, drawings long forgotten, schedules he never read, reports he never handed in. The mess is like usual. It makes him feel comfortable. 

No one ever says anything about it. No one ever says much to him anyway. He likes working like this. It’s just him, his computer, his tablet, folders full of drafts, and the distant sound of people chatting in the rest of the room. He always hands in his work on time, always listens to the remarks, always doing what he’s told diligently. If it means that he can spend all his time working on his drawings, then it’s all he can ask for.

He looks up from the screen when his phone rings for the third time : his mother. He knows what she will say, and she knows he won’t answer. But this time, he actually saves his work, cleans his desk, takes his coat, and leaves the building. 

Outside, it’s still raining, and he sighs. When he arrived here, it wasn’t. He doesn’t have his umbrella, and with another heavy sigh, he steps outside with only his hoodie to shelter him from the rain. The way back home is short, only twenty minutes of bus (thirty-three on the worst days) and a minute to walk up to the apartment building. He sends a quick text to his mother, asking her to take out a towel just in case. 

Getting off the bus, he pulls of his earphones, lazily searching in his bag to fish out his keys. It’s late, though he isn’t sure how late. He checks his phone, and next to the thousands emails he hasn’t read and the phone calls he has ignored, there is this little message, unbearably obvious, from an unknown user.

He looks at it with tired eyes. He isn’t in the mood to talk to anyone, but as he gets in the elevator, he decides that after all he doesn’t have to answer. When he does read the message, however, everything turns upside down. He feels like throwing up, his hands are shaking and his whole body starts feeling way too hot for such a cold day. The elevator rings and he barely gets out on time. His mother is waiting for him on the threshold, towel in her hands, smile on her face.

He can’t get himself to smile back, despite how happy he is to see her. Once he reaches her, she wraps him up and pulls him inside, complaining about how he should have come home sooner.

“You understand, Kyunie, it’s not healthy. I know you love your job but sleep is important. By that I mean good sleep. Look at you, you’re not even-”

He cuts her up by hugging her suddenly, burying his head in the crook of her small neck. She smells like home and soup, like shampoo and this perfume his dad bought her for their last anniversary, like love and comfort. Yet, he doesn’t feel comforted. He just feels lost and terrified.

“Sweetheart? What is wrong?”

“Mom…”

“Tell us, Kyun.”

He hears his dad behind him, can almost guess the expression he’s wearing at the moment. He knows it perfectly, it’s not the first time. Sadly, he often comes home in this hazy state, on the verge of crying, looking for the comfort only his family can give him. So just like every other times, they let him take his time, settling on the couch, bringing him food and a hot drink until he finally decides to let everything out. 

Unlike every other times, however, he can’t get the words out. His throat is sore and tight, his thoughts messy, his eyes blurry. In silence, he puts his phone down in front of him on the coffee table and unlocks it to let them see. He watches as his father reads it, face frowning, hand coming to rest on his shoulder as support. He doesn’t say a word, but Changkyun knows perfectly what he is thinking.

His mother grabs his hand, making him look at her.

“Sweetie, is this Kihyun the same Kihyun from high school?”

“Yes”, he admits with difficulty. Speaking about it makes it way too real. 

“That’s pretty odd. I thought you weren’t in touch with him anymore since then?”

“I wasn’t. I don’t even know how he found me… I… I never thought he’d be the one to contact me.”

“Indeed. It’s been a long time.”

Silence falls over them at last, only broken by the small sobs coming from Changkyun. He feels ridiculous, sitting there with his parents, crying over a text sent by a man he used to be in love with 8 years ago. He feels ridiculous, but doesn’t mention it. He simply dries his eyes on the paper towel his father hands him and remains silent all through dinner. 

This night, he goes to bed early but never falls asleep. This night, he has once again become too afraid of his feelings, trying all he can to remember how easy it was to conceal them before. This night, he doesn’t sleep but gets up full of nightmares, a single text lying there unanswered making him want to crawl back into bed and never get out.

But he has to get up. Has to face the world. The world he threw Kihyun out off willingly. The world he made cold and uninviting for himself. The world that makes him feel so lonely. The world built on fear and cowardice he thought would help him get away from his feelings has never felt more threatening than this morning.

 

* * *

 

It takes him three full days to finally answer the text. After three sleepless nights and three unproductive days, he realises it is completely useless to push himself through this over something so trivial. 

Hence, he finds himself sending his answer the third evening on the bus while going to his best friend’s apartment. He’s figured it’ll be easier for him to wait for an answer with Minhyuk around, even if it means putting up with his insufferable roommate's girlfriend. Not to be mistaken, he likes the girl. She just has ways of making herself slightly vexing. 

He sighs and puts his phone at the bottom of his bag before getting off the bus. He wants to focus on things that are not Kihyun and his potential answer, but the smallest things bring him back to him.

Kihyun and his shining smile. Kihyun and his bright laugh. Kihyun and his hair getting a little too long on his neck. Kihyun and his good grades. Kihyun and his soft touches. Kihyun and his ambitions. Kihyun and the weaknesses he keeps creating in Changkyun. Kihyun and all the feelings Changkyun had for him. 

And still has, though they have changed. Grown. Some of them were kept hidden so long they are starting to hurt, like a muscle you suddenly rediscover after not using it for too long. Some of them left, so simply, yet the memory of them seems more vivid than anything else. And the rest is just still here, haunting, swelling up his heart until he feels like he won’t ever be able to breathe correctly if he doesn’t rip it out of his chest. Somehow, he wonders how those feelings remained alive when he ignored them for so long.

He supposes that’s the power Yoo Kihyun has on him. And suddenly, as he presses the button to call the elevator, he feels more scared than ever. 

Because Kihyun has asked something from him. Because he has agreed to meet up with him. Because he takes in the fact that he will have to actually  _ meet up  _ with him, which means so many more things than he wants to talk about. 

His head buzzes full of thoughts when Minhyuk opens the door, a lovely smile on his face.

“Ah, Kyunie, I was starting to think you missed the bus. Come, Miyeon is nearly done with dinner.”

 

* * *

 

The evening passes by in a blur, and without realising, he’s already in the hall waving goodbye to Minhyuk. 

The cold of the night is awfully biting his face and he tries as much as he can to bury his face in his scarf. He plays with the shadows the street lamps create as he goes. The wind makes the tree branches whistle, noise drowned out by the passing cars. He knows this road by heart, as gone so many times from his home to Minhyuk’s and vice versa.  It gives him the comfort he gets from doing things he’s used to, the comfort a settled daily life gives him. 

Inside, he is terrified. The mere thought of having to face Kihyun tomorrow makes him want to cry. He is this close to run back to Minhyuk and beg him to find an excuse to avoid the meeting. Yet, he decides against it. After all, all this time, a part of him was still hoping for the impossible. Hoping for a chance to spend time with Kihyun again, like before. Hoping for the inceivable idea of being appreciated for who he is. 

Hoping that he would reveal the true Changkyun as a whole human being without being hurt for showing his true colours. 

This hope, in a way, hasn’t died down yet. Somewhere deep inside of him, under the insecurities, the self-hate, the doubts and the fears, it remains untouched, unchanged, still small and still fragile, but today, it is brighter than it has been in years. 

So the next morning, when his alarm wakes him up, he allows himself to smile and look forward to the meeting, because he has to go anyway, so he might as well go with a hopeful mindset. Despite the fear. Despite his reason. Despite himself.

After all, when he sees Kihyun through the window at the café, he dares admit that he has missed him more than he has ever missed anything.

 

* * *

 

Many words come to his mind when Kihyun sits in front of him with a little smile. 

Many words that pile up in his head, in his mouth, clogging up his throat. He sits there, frozen, lips sealed, hands shaking under the table. 

There, almost as close as the last time he saw him, is Yoo Kihyun, 26, successful man with his own job and his own apartment and the prettiest face he has ever seen. Maybe his feelings had been tamed at some point during those eight very long years, but at this exact moment, when Kihyun orders his drink and offers a smile at the waiter before delicately folding his coat to put in on the back of his chair, they hit him in a wave of powerful and bitter regrets. 

Why did he ever think of letting him go? Why had he never put effort in their relationship? Why did hurting himself seem like so much of a good idea when he was young and lost? 

Yes, at this exact moment in his life, the exact moment Kihyun turns back towards him, he thinks for the first time that Fate might be giving him another chance. 

So words do finally come out of his mouth in the way he wants them to, for once, and maybe Kihyun is less talkative than he remembers him to be, maybe he tries all he can to make him laugh again, maybe he falls in love with every new thing he notices about him (the crinkles at the side of his eyes, the way his smooth hair falls on his forehead with this haircut, the anxious twitches of his fingers, the necklace he plays with a lot, the distant look in his eyes), and maybe he shouldn’t be here at all.

But this moment is theirs, and it is happily welcomed by his other precious memories of Kihyun being his, and his only. 

When they come out of the cafe, Changkyun sort of really wants to hold him back; this doesn’t feel enough. But he suddenly remembers that it doesn’t have to be all. That he’ll have all the time in the world to catch up and make up for all the wasted opportunities and spend time with him, and without realising he smiles.

“Why are you smiling just like that?”

“I was just thinking about something nice.”

Kihyun looks at him with his old piercing gaze, something he hadn’t exactly missed in itself, but makes him feel like he’s sixteen again meeting him for the first time. 

“You sure have grown a lot, Changkyun. Thanks for agreeing to meet up with me, I’m really sorry to bother you with such things, but I’m glad it gave me the opportunity to find you again. Let me know when it’ll be ready alright? Goodbye!”

Changkyun stays still for a few minutes, watching as Kihyun disappears at the corner of the street. He can remember his smell, his warmth, his smile, his shy laugh, his piercing eyes and delicate hands, his tired glances and worn-out shoes, his empty words and flawless goodbyes. He relish the idea of meeting him again, and again, and again. He says Kihyun’s words out loud one more time (‘ _ find you again _ ’), just for himself, and starts walking towards his office with a light heart. He can’t remember, however, when he last felt this good, and maybe it once mattered, but it doesn’t anymore. Because now, he knows for sure that Kihyun makes him feel so good just by being there with him, and if he managed to stay away all this time, maybe he can bear to be just friends the rest of their lives. 

It’s hope, and it tastes bravely cold and soothing sweet and bitterly frightening, but he can take it. And he will. 

Because it’s for him. But mostly for  _ himself. _ And it feels so good to finally be a little selfish. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm on [Tumblr](http://umiwomitai.tumblr.com) if you want to scream at me (i update about my writing sometimes too).  
> Until next time, take care!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But Kihyun was hope and reckless decisions, Kihyun was raw feelings and heartful laughs, Kihyun was taking someone’s hand in yours late at night and falling in love in three seconds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like it's useless to say, but I'm really sorry for all the time I took for this third chapter, even though I said I'd update more regularly. I'm feeling a little better now and writing comes more easily, so (no promises here but) the next chapter should come quickly! Hope you enjoy this one as much as me!
> 
> (english is not my first language, please bear with me)

The flickers of screens in front of him. The pieces of paper covered with scribbles all around him. Works in progress, abandoned works, and some he never bothered to even start elaborate a little. It’s always like this, will always be, and in some way, it’s comfort for him.

Comfort is a thing he thinks about a lot, feels a lot less. 

Comfort he finds in the little daily things. The smell of his mother’s shampoo when he enters the bathroom. The soothing tone his father uses to talk with him. The reflects of light on the wall of his room that wake him up early in the morning. The bitter taste of the coffee he drinks at work mixing with the lingering taste of toothpaste. The little  _ bip  _ sound his card makes when he gets on the bus. The heavy weight of his bag on his shoulder when he finally goes home. The cheery laughter that always emits from his phone when Minhyuk calls him to check up on him. Knowing that Minhyuk will  _ always  _ check up on him. Knowing that despite everything, he will always have a home to go back to, a place to find shelter in, an island of comfort in the sea of his turmoils. 

Comfort is everything that reminds him that there is a home somewhere waiting for him. That not everything is dangerous and hostile for him, which he forgets often in the worst moments. 

Kihyun, in a way, smells like comfort. Feels like comfort. Sounds like comfort. Looks like comfort. Changkyun is sure, deep inside, that he probably tastes like comfort too. 

His eyes drift away from his screen filled with the latests character designs he handed in and stop on his phone before he unlocks it. Among the many notifications, he smiles only for the dumb messages Minhyuk sent him, complaining about his new haircut. And then, just as he is ready to leave, his phone vibrates in his hand, and as he expects Minhyuk to be the one calling - it’s only ever him to be honest - he answers distractedly, phone stuck between his ear and his shoulder. 

“Hey Min.”

“Changkyun? It’s Kihyun.”

Oh.  _ Oh.  _ Just like this, Changkyun stops in his track, and the security guard at the door shoots him an annoyed look. He is standing in the middle of the door and the cold air keeps coming in. He apologises quickly and leaves, taking his phone in his hand to focus on the conversation. 

“Hey, hi. Sorry, I didn’t check the contact, I’m just leaving work and-”

“Leaving work? Changkyun, it’s past 10pm! I was actually afraid I might wake you up by calling at this hour.”

Changkyun bites his lip, holding back from telling him this is the earliest he’s left this week, and hops on the bus. He finds the same seat he usually takes already taken, so he stays standing near the other door. 

“You wanted something?”

“Hm, yeah. I don’t want to bother, but… could you drop by at my workplace any time soon? I said last time I’d like to look at your ideas together somewhere calm.”

“Oh, sure. I didn’t have much time lately. But Thursday, I’m taking a day off since Minhyuk wants to celebrate his birthday.”

“Great. I’ll be busy on Thursday, but what about lunch?”

Lunch with Kihyun sounds like the best thing he’s heard in his life. It sounds like a sweet promise full of honey and sugar, and Changkyun has to take a moment to keep these words to himself. Words like lunch date, or simply date. Words like I’d love that. Words that’d mean too much.

“Lunch is perfect.”

“I’ll send you the address then. You… you still live with your parents right?”

“Yes.”

“Then it’s not very far from your place. At twelve on Thursday, then?”

“Yes. See you.”

“See you, Changkyun. Bring your drawings!”

Changkyun hangs up with a smile and a head full of question. How does he remember where he lives when he only came once for a group work back in high school? Why did he seem to want to say something different? Why hadn’t he just sent a quick text to schedule this simple meet-up? Why did it all feel nothing like a simple meet-up?

He had learned not to trust his heart on these matters, not to let his brain overthink little details and meaningless attentions. But Kihyun was hope and reckless decisions, Kihyun was raw feelings and heartful laughs, Kihyun was taking someone’s hand in yours late at night and falling in love in three seconds. 

Kihyun was something else, something different, something he’d missed so much he never wanted to feel this way anymore. 

And maybe it was reckless.  _ Of course _ it was reckless. But if it meant falling in love with him over and over again with every second he spent with him, then  _ fuck it _ , it was worth all the risks and more.

 

 

* * *

  
  


The ice cold wind pierces through his coat and ruffles his hair, but he doesn’t dare to move. He is literally and figuratively frozen in front of the building. Across the street, in front of a smaller building, stands Kihyun in all his glory. His face is buried in a big scarf, his hands stuffed in his pockets, and he seems to be shivering. Seeing him waiting in the cold, Changkyun should have gone to him to end his struggle and go with him to somewhere warm. He should have, he still should, but the mere thought that Kihyun is actually standing there in the cold of November for  _ him,  _ when he could have waited inside his cabinet, makes his legs wobble. 

He stays here a moment longer, admiring him in the way he always had, before he remembers that he is now allowed to come closer, because yes, Kihyun is really waiting for him. After he has gathered enough courage, he crosses the street and stops in front of him with the most natural smile he can. They make small talk on their way to the small restaurant Kihyun chose, and keep talking through lunch. Finally, as the waiter takes away their plates, Changkyun dares to put out his drawings.

“It’s just a few things I’ve come up with, I didn’t have much time so I’m sorry it looks so sloppy.”

“Sloppy? Changkyun, that may be because I last saw your drawings back in high school, but these right here are everything but sloppy.” 

“I’m not as good with pencils as I used to. I’ve been drawing digitally for so long, I barely have time to sit down at my desk and draw like before anymore.”

“You work for a video game company right?” Kihyun asks conversationally as he flips through the pages of the notebook. “I never thought you’d end up working in that field.”

“Me neither. It was Minhyuk’s idea. He’s a big fan of online video games, and there was some kind of contest for the design of a character for their 1 year anniversary. I participated because he told me to, I never thought I’d get in. The offer was good, the formation funny, and I was an art school drop-out. That’s the best I could have found.”

“You didn’t finish art school?”

Changkyun fiddles with his chopsticks, picking at the piece of food that fell on the table. Kihyun looks up at him when he remains silent a little too long, his hair getting caught in the frame of his glasses. He remembers he used to only wear them in class before. 

“It was a tough time back then for me. After high school, I… I staid two years at home, doing nothing. Well, I did nothing the first year. Then my mother made me go through therapy, which I’m thankful for. I got into art school the year after, but dropped out in June. My therapist said it was too early, my mother said I could do it again. She’s right, I could have. But now… Now I’m 26, I don’t really want to go back to school.”

“What do you want to do then?”

He smiles, but doesn’t answer. It’s his privacy, his secret garden. This wish is among the only things he managed to love about himself, the things he has to keep hidden from the world not because of fear, because he has worked too hard to love them, cherish them, and isn’t ready to unveil them. The Changkyun that he’s been building up again is kept a secret, the best secret he has, but this time his only purpose is to make sure he will love himself enough to protect himself from the world.

“Shouldn’t you go back, now?”

Kihyun glances quickly at his watch and his face crunches up ; he starts gathering his belongings.

“Ah you’re right. Here, take your notebook.”

“Keep it. Look at what you like, tell me what you don’t like, and I’ll work from there.”

“Ah. Yeah. Great.” he mumbles fast as he gets up.

They leave the restaurant, but stay just outside to say goodbye. Changkyun takes just a few more seconds to watch the man in front of him. He stands still, but it is clear in his body language he is nervous and antsy. The way he tied his scarf, the strong grip on the notebook, the incessant movement of his eyes that can’t seem to settle. He wonders if he looks the same, or even worse, all of his nervous habits coming out. 

“I’ll give it back to you soon, ok? It… Yeah. Soon.”

“See you soon, then, I guess?”

“Yes. And hm, have a great night celebrating your friends birthday.”

“Thanks Kihyun.”

Changkyun doesn’t stay to watch him enter the building, despite wanting to. His hands are starting to burn from the cold, yet he decides to walk up to Minhyuk’s apartment. To calm down, to sort his thoughts, and to get enough strength to spend the whole evening in the same room as Miyeon. It’ll be just a bunch of them, friends of Minhyuk’s, his roomate, his roomate’s girlfriend. He knows all of them, but doesn’t want to spend time with them. 

It’s still hard sometimes, to go out of his way and be social. Minhyuk helps a lot, like he’s always been, because that’s how they met, that’s what brought them closer, that’s what made him stay. For some reason, he had made it his personal goal to manage to make Changkyun go out at least once a week. Never letting him escape from it, never letting him pretend he was too busy, but at the same time never pushing him too far, too much, too fast, as he knew just how Changkyun felt. 

Like always, today, he could call Minhyuk and explain. Explain how draining it’s been to meet with Kihyun. Explain how his old ways are trying to drown him again. Explain how the only thing he wants is listen to music and watch cartoons while eating his favourite cake his mother makes. Explain how the only person he can manage to be polite with is Kihyun and how it infuriates him to still be so easily influenced by him. Explain how sorry he is to be feeling this down on his birthday.

But he doesn’t explain anything. He doesn’t call. He doesn’t go back home.

He breathes in deeply, turns left at the end of the street, types the code to open the doors to Minhyuk’s building, and climbs the stairs up to his apartment. 

He goes out his way, because he did it once for Kihyun, he can do it for Minhyuk too. And even if his heart tells him no, tugs at him, pleads desperately, he stands his ground and helps set up the little party. Because Kihyun is comfort, home is comfort.

But Minhyuk is this little spark in life that makes him think “why not?”. Minhyuk is the little things in life that always seem too crazy to do but make you feel so deeply alive when you actually do them. And just for that, tonight, he wants to stay with him and wake up the next morning with a smile on his lips, feeling like he did the right thing. Feeling it was worth it.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The sounds of chirpy laughter and muffled music were still reaching his ears through the closed door. He has found shelter in the comfort of Minhyuk’s small bedroom, leaning against the windowsill. At least here, he can breathe for a few seconds before his friend comes for him. He always does. 

Hence, he doesn’t move when he hears the door open and close again, small steps coming towards him. Minhyuk sits next to him, handing him a glass of water. 

“Tired?”

“Yeah.” he whispers slowly to create their small bubble of intimacy. It’s their thing. It’s been for as long as he can remember. 

“I actually thought you may not come, you know? Since you already went out with your dear Kihyun today.”

That’s how Minhyuk always calls him. He has stopped trying to make him stop the moment he realised the idea of Kihyun being  _ his dear Kihyun  _ was more than appealing. 

“I almost didn’t.”

There’s nothing more to add, yet so much more to say. His words hide so much, but since it’s Minhyuk, he trusts him to catch on everything he doesn’t really say but actually means.

“How was it, this morning?”

“Great. He’s amazing, Minhyuk. More than I deserve. It’s silly, but I feel blessed to have a second chance with him. Even more since I did nothing for it.”

He nods, as if it wasn’t him talking just a few seconds ago, and gulps down all of his water. 

“You did more than enough.”

“Maybe. Can we talk about something else?”

Without any word, Minhyuk smiles, and changes the subject. Changkyun loves how fluid conversations flow between them, and wishes in secret that every conversation could be just that easy for him. That’s the only thing he is jealous of about his friend. Not that there’s nothing more to be jealous of, but he can’t bring himself to feel like this. Not about Minhyuk. Not after everything they went through together. 

“Jooheon is coming back in two months. For new year.”

Jooheon. He is Minhyuk’s favourite topic, after food and how much he loves the project he’s been working on for the past few weeks. He only comes third because he is away, studying in France to improve his dancing skills. Changkyun remembers how it was before he left, going through all the ups and downs of their almost-there-but-not-quite-there-either relationship. 

The thing is, Minhyuk has trust issues. In others, and in himself. Relationships take a lot for him to build, and even though Changkyun is sure he’s been in love with Jooheon since too long, he understands why they haven’t done anything more than flirting and going on dates. That’s how it is. They have sworn, however, to talk it out once Jooheon comes back, despite Minhyuk’s fears and issues, despite Jooheon’s self-deprecation,  _ despite odds,  _ as they like to phrase it. 

In a way, Changkyun aspire to such form such a bound with someone - with Kihyun. 

“I’ve missed him.”

“Oh my god, me too, Changkyun, you have no idea. I can’t believe I actually thought that letting him go for more than a year would do me some good. What a prick I can be sometimes.”

“Well. It did do you some good, after all.”

“I think so too. I still miss him like crazy. Especially lately, he is very busy with the preparations of the show. I barely have time to call him.”

They stay in silence for a moment, both lost in their own thoughts, before Minhyuk breaks the silence again, softly.

“I want to kiss his pretty lips so bad.”

“Amazing, Minhyuk. I’m so glad to know that.”

“Oh, I’m sure you are.”

Laughter fills up the room, and the odd weight that was sitting on Changkyun’s chest disappear into thin air. 

Once again, for the last time of the day, he goes out of his way and takes Minhyuk’s hand in his. It’s his way of bringing comfort when words fail him, because even though physical contact isn’t his thing, it’s what the other craves the most. And if it means he can make him feel a little better in the same way Minhyuk always helps him, than Changkyun is more than happy to oblige. 

Minhyuk always makes things worth it. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go! I'm slowly introducing Minhyuk as a main character in this, but I doubt I'll get to write more in depths about his relation with Jooheon. Anyway, thanks for sticking with me, and until next time, take care!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At this moment, when Changkyun turns around, at first just to let him in, he notices the biggest smile he has ever seen on Kihyun’s face, and it’s so pretty it hurts, but there were also his eyes brimmed with tears, and that hurts even more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi.  
> I feel like I'll never manage to update this more regularly, and I'm really sorry for this. Especially since I'm starting school again at the beginning of September, so I'll have less time and energy to write this. I still really appreciate the support it's getting anyway! Thanks a lot for reading.  
> This chapter really is full of angst, and I'm quite proud of how it turned out to be, so I hope you'll enjoy it just as much! 
> 
> (English is not my first language so I apologise ahead if there are any mistake/sentence that doesn't sound quite right)

The rain keeps falling everyday, and every day, he finds himself staring at it through the window near his cubicle. The days are growing colder and colder, and soon, the rain will be snow, the wind will be bone-chilling and the puddles hard and frozen. The streets will be empty at night, bars full and cheery, light and smoke coming through the doors as he passes by. 

Tonight, he has to meet with Kihyun. Strangely, he doesn’t feel stressed about it, neither anxious. He feels empty, has been for a few days now, and even the thought of seeing Kihyun isn’t brightening up his mood. They’ve been doing that since they found each other again, meeting up from time to time, grabbing a drink or lunch, and chatting until one of them has to go. Changkyun doesn’t call them dates, because Kihyun hasn’t called them dates either. He doesn’t know what it is, between them, or if there is even something to talk about. He doesn’t dare bringing it up, doesn’t dare being the one to crush his hopes in his own hand.

It’s cruel, but he’d rather Kihyun broke his heart himself. 

He strolls by another full bar before turning left, walking a small and dark street, until he reaches the half of it, and another narrow alley that leads this time to a quieter and less crowded restaurant. He can see Kihyun waiting there, in front of the door, despite the cold rain forming a puddle at his feet. He looks up when he hears Changkyun coming, and smiles softly, shyly. Changkyun feels a little warmer inside and thinks that maybe, he made the right decision to come here.

 

* * *

 

 

“It’s pretty annoying, if you want my opinion. Not like I hate women, but it always gets awkward when I push them away. Just imagine, having to treat and heal a person who literally asked you to have sex with her. She’s married! In what world would I say yes to that?”

Changkyun watches him snort and gulp down his glass, just like the 3 times before. He doesn’t know how long they’ve been here, but long enough for the waitress to be eyeing them sideways with a tired look every time Kihyun opens his mouth to speak. When he begins rambling again, Changkyun shots a glance at his watch. It’s late, maybe a little too late. He has work tomorrow, and he’s pretty sure Kihyun has too. 

“I think we should go, it’s getting late.”

“Oh, really?”

Changkyun holds back from sassing around, and gets up, gathering both their belongings. Kihyun follows him, leaving enough money to pay for both of them on the table. He smiles when he takes his coat from Changkyun’s hands, and put his own hand on the other’s shoulder when they leave the restaurant, heading towards the underground station. 

“Thanks for tonight, Changkyun.”

“My pleasure.”

“No, really. Work has been hectic lately, and I’m not even talking about my family. So thanks for taking my mind off things for a night.”

At this moment, when Changkyun turns around, at first just to let him in, he notices the biggest smile he has ever seen on Kihyun’s face, and it’s so pretty it hurts, but there were also his eyes brimmed with tears, and that hurts even more. Changkyun lets him sit down and crouches down in front of him, both hands on his legs for balance.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry, I must… It’s just… I’m so tired, and probably a little drunk, and you make me forget everything when you’re here and I just thought about when I’ll get home alone… and having to go to sleep alone… And alone seems so lonely tonight…”

Changkyun isn’t really sure what breaks his heart the most at this point. Kihyun crying his heart out in the middle of the train, hands clutching his coat, head hung low, breath coming out sharp. Or Kihyun’s words, making him realise how lonely and sad he’s been all along. Or Kihyun’s eyes, deep, empty, yet at the same time crying for help, barely hanging on strong enough to keep himself together. 

He takes his hand, pulls him up, and quietly leads him back to his apartment. His brain seems on autopilot now, making decisions he hasn’t even thought about yet. Kihyun seems lifeless, drawn out of all the energy he had left, and when he makes him sit on his couch he doesn’t protest. The room is small, smaller than Changkyun’s own bedroom, and he wonders how Kihyun manages to breathe correctly in here, alone, windows closed. He opens one, and gets a cup of water from the sink, handing it over to the man who hasn’t moved a single inch. His eyes have died out, no light in it anymore except for the reflection of the small light bulb on the ceiling above them. They’re emptier than before, and somehow, it petrifies Changkyun even more.

“I’m sorry…” Kihyun’s voice barely reaches his ears, croaking out of his mouth with difficulty. “I… I never meant to.”

“We don’t plan those things. It’s alright.”

“Well… I guess I owe you an explanation.”

“Actually, you really don’t. It’s alright, I mean it. It happens to the best of us, after all, so you don’t have to.”

Kihyun finally looked up at him, a puzzled look on his face, before slightly leaning backward and smiling. It wasn’t empty, it wasn’t lively, but it was there, and it was enough. For a second, it was. 

“You’re such a mystery to me, Im Changkyun. As far as I remember, you’ve always had nice words for me.”

“You don’t deserve mean ones.”

“Ah, see? Just this kind of truthful answers, it’s just so… you. I met someone quite similar to you, back in Seoul. He was… Now that I have you so close, it’s true you both are scarily alike. So full of truth and yet, quite distant from everything. There was such a mysterious aura about him, I couldn’t help feeling drawn to him. John. Quite an unusual name, for such an unusual person.”

Changkyun puts his own glass down on the coaster, resting his back against the couch. He feels like Kihyun has a lot to let out. It’s good, he has time to waste. 

“He was there with one of my patients the first time I met him. With his sister. Such a nice girl, but she could barely talk Korean back then, so he had come along to help her. He had stayed with us all along, and I remember asking if he’ll be back next time.  _ If I’m still needed around here, I will.  _ That’s what he said. I guess I held on to that sentence a lot, after that. We had an affair, or something like this. I knew he had a fiancée, he knew I knew, and we kept going. It was addicting, in some way. Spending time with him was like finally finding a shelter in the middle of a thunderstorm. It felt good, so good, so comfortable and warm, but at the same time, I knew that I’d have to leave after the storm.”

He stopped for a second, leaning forward to wipe his tears in a way that should have hidden it from Changkyun if they hadn’t been so close. Changkyun held back from putting his hand on his back to show comfort, not knowing if that moment could actually be worth it. 

“At some point… After their wedding, nothing changed, even though I thought it would. Nothing changed, and I guess I should have known it was too good to be true. But one day, his wife made an appointment, even though she shouldn’t have. I knew her well, I knew she couldn’t need something so early. When she arrived, with her perfect smile, perfect hair and perfect nails, she looked at me and said  _ We need to talk, Doctor Yoo Kihyun.  _ And I should have known. Deep inside, I knew… I don’t remember how she heard about us, because I was terrified of how calm she was about this whole thing. I swear, I was terrified of her and could barely speak up for myself. I promised never to see him again, and when she left, I called my parents saying I’d take that offer to work in a clinic here. Everything was settled in a few weeks, and then I had to say goodbye.”

“Did he hold you back?”

“He tried. I guess. He did say he would miss me, but now I’m not sure he meant it. He still sends me flowers on my birthday, with those same words I hate so much.  _ I will stay as long as I’m needed.  _ That fucker sounds so full of himself. This last day we spent together, though… It was two years ago. Minus a few days. It’s probably that day that felt the most like being in a calm house in a middle of a furious storm. Like… Like it could have meant so much without being any different.”

Kihyun stops there and doesn’t add anything more. The silence is heavy, disrupted by the cars passing by and noisy neighbours. But inside the room, it’s stuffy and unbearable. Kihyun seems so close to losing it once again, hands shaking and eyes full of tears. Changkyun considers every option at hand, quickly, not quick enough, to decide what is the right thing to do. Yet, not quick enough, because Kihyun finally leans against the couch next to him, eyes closed and head thrown backwards.

“That’s a lot to take in. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I guess you needed that out.”

“Oh, that’s for sure. I’m sorry if I weirded you out. I’d understand if you didn’t want to contact me anymore.”

“Kihyun, I don’t know if you’re talking about the being gay part, or the one where you fuck with a married man you fell in love with, but trust me, you’re gonna need more to  _ weird me out. _ ”

Kihyun lets out a breathy empty laugh, as if it was the only acceptable way to react to this confession.

“Always too honest, Changkyun.”

“Not as much as you think.”

“Oh I know. I still remember the tormented reserved child from high school. There’s so much you say for someone who never talks about himself.”

“It’s an art I’ve mastered over the years. How much bullshit I can spit out before someone notices I’m just full of shit.”

“How much?”

“Too much.”

That is where it ends, where the silence stops being stuffy for them both but comes at Changkyun’s throat to choke him up. The playful banter comes to an end, Kihyun looking up at him, Changkyun trying desperately to flee from here. 

“That much…” Kihyun whispers, voice painted with a pain that doesn’t sound like his anymore. 

“I should head back. Thanks for tonight, Kihyun.”

“Oh no, thank you actually. I promise, next time you’ll have the right to be the one crying over his broken heart.”

“Next time… Sure. Next time.”

Changkyun smiles at him even if he doesn’t want to, just because it feels right to.  _ Bullshit.  _ Kihyun gets up to walk him to the door even if the apartment is so small it is obviously unnecessary.  _ Bullshit.  _ Changkyun waves back at him as he leaves, but walks back to him and stands in front of his door to add a last word, even if it feels awkwards after all this time.  _ Bullshit…  _

“I don’t mind you being gay, Kihyun. I just wanted to make sure you know that. Minhyuk is in love with a man, and I myself have been… in a relationship with a man. I really couldn’t care less. I’m just sad he never treated you the way you deserve.”

At this exact moment, the moment where he feels his tongue release the last word, something clicks in his head. Something he knows perfectly well, this little alarm here to let him know when he’s said too much, revealed too much. About himself. This small voice, getting louder and louder, begging him to run out of here and go back back to his only shelter. The sound of despair telling him that this was meant to remain hidden, kept away from any and every one, including Kihyun.

Especially Kihyun.

Because Kihyun still is the only person he hasn’t scared away. Because Kihyun still is the only person he doesn’t want to scare away.

“Thanks for this, Changkyun. Next time, tell me about you and this relationship, ok?”

He nods, just because he can’t do anything else, and leaves.

No. Next time, he won’t tell him about this relationship.

But maybe… maybe one day he will. And that day, he can only hope Kihyun will stay to pick up the broken pieces of him that were thrown to the sea and never came back.

 

* * *

 

 

The air is as stuffy as it always is, no matter the weather. It smells like dust too, no matter how much time the office cleaner spends on this room. Changkyun assumes it’s in the walls themselves, the slats of the floor, the old-fashioned wallpaper. Maybe it’s in his therapist too. She’s an old woman already, face tired and covered in wrinkles, hands crooked and skin hanging. Yet, she is one of the nicest person he has ever met. Her smile is warm and welcoming, her touch soothing, her laughter inviting. Only her body has been affected by the time as her soul and mind remain wonderfully childish. Her mellifluous voice is the first thing that he has in mind when he thinks about her, getting him through the hard times. 

She is the one who called for the appointment. They usually meet up once a month when he manages to hold himself up long enough. This time, they haven’t met for almost two months, and he must admit he feels every part of his mind close to breakdown. He can’t seem to be able to calm his jittery leg, and his hands remain clammy no matter how many times he wipes them down on his pants. With a sigh of relief, he sees the door open on her welcoming face. 

“Come in, Changkyun.”

 

* * *

 

 

The wind is still blowing in his hair, colder now that the sun is setting, and his hands bury themselves in his pockets instinctively. The bus leaves as soon as the doors close behind him and he starts walking slowly towards his apartment. He is going back home tonight. He doesn’t really want to, feels drained out of all his energy after his appointment, and the mere idea of having to smile to his parents and talk to them makes him sick. His stomach gets tighter at the thought that it’d be easier if they were out, just for tonight. He hates feeling this way, and disgust towards his own thoughts is smothering his lungs. 

He avoids the elevator, giving himself more time to calm himself down, though all in vain. His feet bump many times along the steps, blindly reaching his doorstep. He takes out his keys and hopes really hard that his invasive neighbour won’t choose this exact moment to open her door and come talk to him. He gets inside safe and soundlessly, taking off his shoes and coat just as quietly. He avoids the living room and, surprisingly, reaches his room without having to open his mouth once. 

There, he drops down on his bed and curls up, pillow trapped between his arms. Tears start flowing down his face onto the bed sheets, sobs quietly shaking his body. It doesn’t make any noise, and he doesn’t hear any noise. Everything is made of cotton and feathers, bland, trapping him, smothering him. He becomes scared of breathing in, scared of swallowing feathers and dust, scared of letting go of his pillow. The world around him can’t hurt him anymore, but can’t save him either. He’s falling without ever reaching the ground, screaming without ever making any sound, grasping without ever reaching anything to hold onto. 

He is alone, feels alone, cries alone. He empties himself of all the tears he kept inside all this time, hoping to get rid of his fears and broken hopes at the time. It’s hard, to realise no one is protected from the hardships of life. It’s hard to realise that you can never really protect anyone, especially from themselves. It’s hard to realise being in love doesn’t give you wings, doesn’t make you feel incredibly powerful, isn’t like everyone tells you it is. 

Being in love is lonely. Being in love is sad. Being in love is putting so much energy, time, and strength in making someone happy, or at least encouraging their happiness, hoping you’ll make the difference while knowing perfectly well it might never change anything. Being in love is bleeding your heart out until it stops beating, hoping it will stop beating. But it never stops. It keeps beating, even though it’s empty, even though it’s hurting so bad. Because, somehow, someway, it feels good to hurt so bad. For someone, for something, for yourself. 

Changkyun’s hand shoots up to stop a cry to escape from his mouth. His tears have stopped falling some time ago, but his body is still sobbing and hurting all over. He closes his eyes, slowly, to try and regain an ounce of sanity. Just enough to stop shaking and get up from his bed. When he collects himself and manages to stand still, he opens up the window, letting in the fresh night air, and sits at his desk. There, he takes out his old drawing sheets and starts drawing. He draws for hours, until he can’t feel his hand anymore, until his body begs for some sleep.

He falls asleep right there, head resting on a pile of sheets covered in sketches of the same face. He has never stopped drawing him, and in some way, he finds comfort in knowing he probably won’t ever stop. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Come yell at me on [Tumblr](https://umiwomitai.tumblr.com) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/_tildawn) if you want to witness all my mental breakdowns over this !  
> Until next time, take care!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s his and maybe a little bit of their.
> 
> Maybe. If he ever dares.
> 
> As he climbs up the stairs, he decides that he will. One day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I really updating less than a month after? seems like it haha. also seems like, after a big breakdown, school actually helps me be more motivated to finish this (crazy right) so I'm gonna try my best to update more regularly. Thanks to anyone who's waiting for this!!
> 
> (english isn't my first language, so watch out)

The snow is piling up on the side of the streets, a soggy mass of not so white anymore frozen water. The weather has never been so cold so early into December, and everyone is getting worried winter will last longer than planned. 

Changyun doesn’t mind. He’s always been a winter person. Cold weather gives him a good reason to stay inside, and if ever he has to go out, the streets are mostly empty for people don’t like to linger in the cold. Minhyuk, however, has been complaining about it ever since the first snowflake landed on the ground, and he secretly hopes Jooheon will come back a little sooner than planned to make him stop. 

He watches the snow fall from his bedroom window, lazily sitting on his bed. It’s his first real day-off in months and the perfect occasion to do nothing and never feel guilty about it. He woke up early just to feel his body lay under the covers for hours, still warm and sleepy. He loves the comforting warmth of his bedroom. Hunger makes him come out at some point, simply grabbing leftovers from the fridge and eating them cold at his desk, drawing at the same time.

That is something he never stops doing, because he doesn’t think he’d be able to. Drawing has always been here, somewhere, with him, in him. It’s him as a whole, as a person, and he can’t ever stop doing it. Even at home, he comes up with plenty of doodles and some more elaborated drawings, sometimes even pushing to animating a pretty quick clip. It is his shelter, his protection, his strength too.  

Time has passed, and his parents are back home. He can hear them through his door but doesn’t bother getting up and greeting them. He knows he’ll have to at some point. The snow is still falling prettily, slowly, and now the grass patches in front of the building are all white. He notices a lady with her dog, playing happily with the flakes. With a smile, he grabs his notebook and doodles them quickly, watching the dog intently.

He misses how his phone rings a few times, how the doorbell rings too, how someone knocks at his door. He misses his mother calling for him, her opening the door, and someone coming in. He doesn’t miss, however, the small awkward cough the other makes to let him know of his presence, and he puts down his pencil before turning around.

“Hi.”

“Oh. Kihyun.”

“I called a few times but you weren’t answering so your mother let me in.”

“Oh. Yeah, sure. Sorry, I was caught up in… drawing.”

Kihyun moves forward a little to get a look at the sheet and smiles brightly.

“That’s adorable.” Then he adds, after looking around a little: “It hasn’t changed much here.”

Changkyun looks at his room too, and tries to remember how it was eight years ago. Yes, Kihyun is probably right. He’s never put much thought into decorating his bedroom, for he would mostly just draw and sleep here. It shows, since his walls are covered in doodles he pins to work with them, and other very random pieces of his work. However none of them are related to his job since everything always remains at the company. He watches as Kihyun contemplates the drawings around him, sometimes smiling, sometimes raising his eyebrows, sometimes frowning. He could stay there for hours, sitting cross-legged on his bed still wearing his pajamas, looking at Kihyun’s expressive face. 

“You really are talented. Where does the inspiration come from? I mean, all this… that’s a whole lot. Is any of this for your job?”

“Actually, no. Those are just personal ones. Projects, ideas, random creations and commissions. The ones in front of you are actually my biggest project.”

“What is it?” Kihyun inquires, looking at them with a curious gaze. “The characters are so adorable.”

“It’s a children book project. Stories about twins wandering around the world to answer their questions.”

“It’s so cute. I didn’t know you liked this kind of things.”

Changkyun shrugs, embarrassed. He can only hope Kihyun won’t decide to look at him at this exact moment, his face burning red.

“I don’t mention it, really.” 

“Well. Anyway, I came to give you that book I promised to lend you. I really hope you’ll like it.”

“You didn’t have to come all the way here, you know.”

“You told me it was your day off, I didn’t want to bother. Plus it’s nice to see not so tired anymore, even if a little underdressed I must admit.”

He lets out a laugh, eyes shining with relief and joy. Kihyun has a little smirk on his face, but his eyes are unreadable. A knock on the door breaks the blissful silence.

“Kyun, sweetheart, dinner’s almost ready. Go take a shower before we eat, ok?” He nodded, so his mother added: “Kihyun, you’ll stay with us for dinner right?”

“Oh no, I don’t want to impose, it’s alright! Thank you.”

“Sure. Changkyun said you live alone, kid, there is no way I’ll let you leave when there is plenty of food for four of us. Now Changkyun, go wash yourself while Kihyun helps me set the table, alright? Hurry up boys!”

 

* * *

 

He hisses as the cold night air hits the skin of his neck. Bringing his coat closer to him, he stands there in his pajamas and slippers, looking at the concealed stars through fluffy clouds. It should start snowing anytime soon, it is easy to feel in the air. No one is outside anymore, way too eager to go back home, looking for warmth and comfort. Strangely, Kihyun doesn’t seem as eager to leave. Maybe he likes being here. Maybe he feels at ease in his home. Maybe he likes being with him. Just the two of them, between the four walls of his bedroom. That is so foolish, but Changkyun can let such thoughts run around his mind on such a day. 

Who would know except him?

“It’s so cold, I already can’t feel my toes,” Kihyun interrupts with his chirpy laugh, eyes forming crescent moons. He is so cold, yet so bright.

“You should head back now, then.”

He turns towards him, still smiling. Kihyun has always been quite tiny, even though he is as small as Changkyun. His frame is delicate and fragile, yet tonight, looking at him with the reflect of a thousand lights in his eyes and cheeks red thanks to the wind, he has never seemed stronger. 

“Thank you for tonight. It feels nice to feel this welcomed.”

“That’s how my parents are. I guess they’re a little protective of me, they tend to project that on my friends too.”

Changkyun brushes it off, because he doesn’t want to have to admit he has just mentioned Kihyun so much over the years that his parents have been prepared for a night like this for years. The words feel like too much in his throat, but they stay stuck there, making it hard to swallow. 

“It shows. I’ll be going now, it’s really cold. Thank your mother again for the leftovers, I’ll make sure to give you the box back soon!”

“It’s alright.”

With a wave and his forever smile, Kihyun is gone, pace fast to gather some heat. Changkyun remains standing in front of the building for a moment, clearing out his head. He thinks about Kihyun’s laughter still ringing in his head. He thinks about all the compliments he gave his mother for her cooking. He thinks about his back in the bad light of their kitchen while he was helping with the dishes. He thinks about his hands going over pages and pages of drawings. He thinks about his eyes full of wonders when he told him about the storyline for his children book. He thinks about his voice whispering praises about him and other words that sounded like dirty little secrets.

He thinks about Kihyun and how warm he makes him feel inside. He thinks about this feeling, and how it has changed after all these years. It isn’t scorching hot anymore. It isn’t burning like shame and self-disgust anymore. It’s warm and agreable. It’s soft and pure. It’s mature and fragile. It’s his and maybe a little bit of  _ their _ . 

Maybe. If he ever dares. 

As he climbs up the stairs, he decides that he will. One day. 

 

* * *

 

Music is pulsing through the door already, getting on his nerves even before he steps in. It’s three days after Christmas, and Jooheon has come back just yesterday. Despite the end of the year celebrations, Changkyun hasn’t managed to get any off-day besides January 1st, so he is only now coming to Minhyuk’s apartment to wish him a Merry Christmas and an early happy new year. 

Like every year, he will spend new year’s eve with his parents and his grandparents, just the six of them together, eating and laughing the night away. Like every year, Minhyuk will stay at his place, eating ice cream and watching stupid comic shows on TV until he falls asleep on the couch. 

This year, however, Minhyuk will have Jooheon. It’s sad, in a way, that neither of them has a family to go back to. Just for this, Changkyun wishes he could stay with them both, hugging Minhyuk tight and feeding Jooheon until he complains he will get fat. Just this time, Changkyun wishes life wouldn’t be so unfair. 

But this year, everything is different.

He feels it in the smile Minhyuk gives him when he opens the door. He feels it in his tight embrace as they wish each other a Merry Christmas. He feels it in how close to him Jooheon sits on the couch. He feels it in the looks they give each other when they think Changkyun isn’t paying attention. (he isn’t, really)

He feels it in how light the atmosphere is and in how everything seems possible at this exact moment, laying here in the middle of their second-hand leather couch, arm hanging off to play with Minhyuk’s hair, lights low and laughter loud. He feels it in himself, someway. He feels almost powerful, almost full, almost whole.

Almost normal. 

And at the same time, he’s never been farther away from normal, and it feels so right. So satisfying. So  _ normal _ , not to be normal. 

“Kyunie?” Minhyuk starts at some point.

Changkyun raises his head from the couch to look at him, and notices Jooheon has left the room. He is probably in the bathroom, light coming from the hallway.

“What?”

“I’m so happy you’re here tonight. And I’m so in love with him.”

“I know.” he says softly, simply, answering all the questions his friend doesn’t ask. 

“I don’t feel as rushed as before anymore. Now that he’s here to stay, for good, I’m… I feel like we have all the time in the world. And you know what’s even weirder?”

Changkyun takes a gulp from the apple juice bottle, frowning when he notices it’s grape soda inside. 

“What is?”

“I feel like, even if we don’t get to do all the things I want to do with him, I won’t regret it. Because I’ll spend time with him.”

“Indeed, that’s some crazy shit.”

“I know,” Minhyuk sighs, sprawling even further on the floor, a delirious smile settling slowly on his face. “Hey Honey. Fancy seeing you here.”

“You literally invited me, Minhyuk.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t get to appreciate your presence here.”

Changkyun disassociates from their talk the minute they start fake-arguing back and forth, and dwelves on Minhyuk’s words.

Maybe that’s what he feels about Kihyun, now. He just want to be with him, no matter the way, as long as it means forever. Forever is all he wants for now, and this is the most peaceful he’s felt in years. 

His brain registers it’s probably the most peaceful he’s felt ever, but he doesn’t want to ruin the thought this late at night, and decides that falling asleep to the sound of this pop song with 80’s vibes on a worn-out leather couch is a pretty nice idea at the moment.

 

* * *

 

The wide white walls are still the same when he finally steps in, taking off his snow covered scarf and hat. The hallways are mostly empty, no one bothering to come so early in the year. Classes don’t start before a few days, yet Jooheon is already training and preparing. 

Changkyun decides to stroll around for a bit when he notices he is a tad early. Hallways after hallways, doors after doors, empty classrooms after empty classrooms, every memory seems to be burning in the back of his mind when he reaches the door to the rooftop. It’s incredibly cold up here, and it reminds him of all the days he spent there, eating on his own, drawing, escaping from the mess of social life. 

The two months separating high school from art school had been a blessing back then, because the moment he stepped into his classroom and all eyes turned towards him, he regretted. Regret had been his constant mood at the time, the strongest feeling overcoming everything else. Until he met Jooheon. 

Oh, Jooheon didn’t save it all for him. Yet he remained a joyful and inspiring constant in his life. During school, of course, but mostly after he dropped out, and that was what mattered more to Changkyun. He was here when his mother dragged him to the therapist. He was here when he started eating regularly again. He was here when he started going out again. He was here when he met Minhyuk and slowly let him in. 

He is here. Next to him, behind him, with him. He is a friend he can rely on, love with his whole heart, without ever fearing to be backstabbed. He is more than he’s ever had back then, probably more than he deserves. 

Eyes stinging from the cold, he makes his way back down, reaching the studio Jooheon is in. It seems like he’s just stopped dancing, sitting on the floor hair drenched in sweat and breath heavy.

“Done?”

“Yeah… For today.”

“Has it helped ?”

“I think so. I’m still anxious, but I’m pretty sure they’ll like it.”

“They’ll like you, Joo. You’re an awesome dancer, I’m sure you’ll be just as awesome as a teacher.”

They smiled at each other and Jooheon left him a few minutes to take a shower. Changkyun staid there, sitting, watching his reflection in the mirror. 

_ They’ll like you. _

_ Will he like me?  _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is def happier than the previous one, but i can't make promises about the next one. until next time, take care!
> 
> [tumblr](https://umiwomitai.tumblr.com)   
>  [twitter](https://twitter.com/_tildawn)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading all through the end! I don't know when the next chapter will come so please bear with me. I'm on  
> [Tumblr](https://dawnfreckles.tumblr.com) if you want to yell at me for this disaster.  
> Until next time, take care of you!


End file.
